


Hilf mir

by Menfinske



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Drunkenness, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 23:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske
Summary: Schneider finds a very drunk Oliver in his dressing room. Finding out that Oliver is quite too drunk to do much of anything without falling over, Schneider decides to help the bassist get back to the hotel safe and clean.





	Hilf mir

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during the 2014 tour. In this particular story, Oliver has kept his upper body fully clothed throughout the show, because I thought the image of Oliver struggling with the sleeves in my head was too funny.  
Hope you enjoy!
> 
> //Edit: There is now a page where you can give Rammstein prompt ideas. Anyone can visit and give ideas and anyone can fill the prompts. So post them or browse them if you feel like it: https://rammfic.dreamwidth.org/288.html

Schneider walks into the room where the afterparty was being held earlier. The afterparty had mostly settled down, only two handfuls of people left and none of them paying attention to Schneider remaining by the doorway as he scans the remaining people. Discovering that only Till and Richard are still present and both of them appear to be reveling in the attention they're getting at the moment, Schneider slips out of the room before being noticed, not feeling much for staying longer. 

He wanders through the hallway towards his dressing room instead, stepping in and crossing the room. He’s just taken his shirt and shoes off when he hears someone whistling mock-appreciatively and Schneider turns around to see Oliver sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the dressing room. Oliver chuckles at Schneider’s confused face.

“Well, if you’ve come to my dressing room to put on a show for me, might as well try to appreciate it,” Oliver explains the whistling away.

“Oli, this is my dressing room,” Schneider responds with a chuckle of his own as he crosses the distance to the door, which opens to the inside and allows Schneider to point out piece of paper with his name printed on it. Oliver looks truly puzzled and even gets to his feet to come closer, then begins to double over in laughter

“I think I may have had a bit too much to drink this time,” Oliver admits quietly when realization begins to dawn on his face. Schneider shakes his head fondly. 

“Sit down, Oli. I’ll grab you a glass of water,” Schneider says, placing his hands on Oliver’s shoulders and marching him to the bench before slipping his shirt back on quickly and hoping to get in and out of the afterparty a second time without being noticed. He succeeds and grabs a bottle of water for himself as well. While much less drunk than Oliver now and Paul earlier this evening, he’ll still have to take care not to get dehydrated now and make his hangover tomorrow worse. 

Slipping back into his dressing room, he tosses the bottle towards Oliver, then watches in amusement as Oliver’s reflexes have taken a beating due to his inebriation and he only reaches out to catch the bottle once it’s firmly landed on the grounded. Bending forward to grab at it, he only manages to topple off the bench due to losing his balance and Schneider can’t help but chuckle, even as he walks over to help Oliver get upright and hand him the bottle. 

Neither he nor Oliver speak as Schneider takes his shirt back off, followed by the remainder of his clothes. He feels sweaty and sticky after not having showered following the show, sometimes cursing their mutual decision to spend the afterparty and meet & greetings in their stage-outfits. 

“Have you showered yet?” Schneider asks Oliver once he’s fully undressed and reaching into his bag for his shampoo and soap. Oliver glances up at him, slowly shaking his head. It’s unsurprising, given that Oliver is still wearing his own stage-outfit as well. Schneider checks his bag to see if he might’ve brought a second pair of sweats, not having much faith in Oliver functioning by himself at the moment. Finding a pair that is not only spare but also, if he recognizes them correctly, a bit long on himself, he takes them out before looking back at Oliver. “Get undressed.”

“Why?” Oliver asks, clearly confused even as he gets up to obey the command. 

“Because your clothes will get wet otherwise,” Schneider drily responds, watching Oliver struggling to get his shirt off as he gets tangled in the sleeves. Arching his brow in amusement, Schneider reaches out to pull his shirt back down, instead opening up the zipper. Oliver laughs happily at his own mistake while taking it off more easily now, before once again toppling over to try and undo his shoes. “Right. Oli, just- stay still. I’ll undress you.” 

Oliver doesn’t protest, allowing Schneider to help him back up to his feet and kneeling in front of Oliver to take his shoes off, followed by the thigh-high socks and the shorts, before finally pulling Oliver’s boxer-briefs down and exposing his entire naked body. Getting back up on his own two feet, he once again places his hands on Oliver’s shoulders, though this time he marches towards the shower. He runs it, walking back to retrieve his soap and shampoo, then returns to find Oliver chuckling about how the water hits just his shoulder and nothing else. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this drunk, Oli,” Schneider grins. His general shyness often took him away from the party before he reached this level of drunkenness. He pushes Oliver until he’s fully standing under the streaming water, letting him rinse the worst of the sweat and dirt off purely from the water first. Schneider reaches for the washcloth, lathering it with soap and making Oliver step away from the stream again before washing him. 

“That tickles,” Oliver laughs loudly when Schneider washes across his back. Schneider can’t help a grin as he intentionally tickles Oliver’s armpits when he washes them, making Oliver laugh and sway dangerously, Schneider wrapping his arms around his friend to keep him from toppling over in the slippery shower with his balance already dangerously lacking. Only once Oliver is standing upright again does Schneider continue washing him, going down his arms, before kneeling behind Oliver to wash his ass, thighs and calves. 

Getting up to turn Oliver around, he washes the bassist’s front as well, focusing mainly on his arms which had been covered in the heat and fire-repellent oil. It works well, but it’s a bitch to wash off. Once satisfied with the cleanliness of Oliver’s arms his chest and stomach are put through the same process, since Oliver had oiled them up in case he’d take his shirt off. Once again kneeling in front of Oliver, he washes his thighs and calves quicker, since they weren’t covered in the oil, before cautiously sliding the washcloth around Oliver’s cock and balls. With the bassist now all cleaned up, Schneider gets back on his feet to find Oliver grinning happily. 

“What?” Schneider can’t help but grin himself, despite not knowing what is funny. Oliver’s grin had always been infectious, despite how little he showed it. Especially when anyone else was around. Schneider knew that Oliver tended to open up with him a tad more, though he’s not sure if it’s from working more intensely with each other due to both of them being responsible for the rhythm of the songs or because they knew each other so long already, having been roommates long before they were bandmates.  
Rather than receiving an answer, however, Oliver merely shrugs his shoulders. Schneider shakes his head in amusement, a grin still present on his own face, as he directs Oliver back under the stream to rinse the soap off of himself. Once properly clean, Schneider switches places, stepping under the stream himself. 

He washes both his hair and his body without haste, not bothered by the drunk bassist who is now leaning against the shower-wall and half-watching him. Once the sweat, oil and general dirt of the show is properly cleaned off of himself, Schneider turns off the shower and once again directs Oliver where he has to go. He doesn’t bother handing Oliver the towel, not trusting the man not to topple over when he bends down this time. Instead he towels off Oliver first, only a little bothered by the moisture already trapped in the towel when he dries himself off. 

He’s about to turn around to hand Oliver the pair of sweatpants when Oliver suddenly surges forward. Schneider instinctively reaches out, thinking that Oliver had once again lost his balance, but Oliver’s arms wrap around Schneider tightly, Oliver’s head resting on Schneider’s as he doesn’t let go.

“You’re a good friend, Schneider. I really like that you are my friend,” Oliver very solemnly and seriously says. Schneider smiles broadly, pecking Oliver’s cheek appreciatively. 

“I know. I like that you’re my friend too, Oli,” Schneider responds. He allows the embrace for a moment longer before he ducks out of Oliver’s arms, handing him the pair of sweats. “Here, lift your foot,” Schneider says. Oliver nods and lifts his feet one by one, Schneider pulling the sweats up to rest on his hips. Luckily, since they don’t have loops to put a belt through, the elastic sticks to Oliver’s waist enough that it stays up without too much trouble. Schneider directs Oliver back to the bench while he puts on his own clothes and shoes, before turning back to Oliver to put his socks and shoes on. 

Schneider hooks his arm through Oliver’s in lieu of pushing him around, walking both of them to the back exit where a car should be waiting for them. Finding it soon enough and helping Oliver into the car before following in, they make their way back to the hotel. Once there, Schneider goes through the same process, but backwards, until they’re standing in the hallway where both of their rooms are located.

“Can I sleep at yours tonight, Schneider?” Oliver asks. 

“Sure, Oli. Come on in,” Schneider responds, opening his door and allowing Oliver to go in first. Oliver immediately walks to the bed, tripping on the way as he kicks his shoes off despite Schneider having done them up only loosely. Schneider grins even as he walks up to Oliver, hooks his arms underneath his arms and legs and carries him the remaining short distance to the bed. 

He walks into the kitchen to fill two glasses of water. One he immediately drinks before refilling it and putting it on his side of the bed and one he gives to Oliver, commanding him to drink it while Schneider takes off his shirt and shoes. Oliver is beaming with pride at having drunk the glass empty by the time Schneider is standing in his sweats and Schneider can’t help an affectionate chuckle before he refills the glass and puts it on Oliver’s nightstand. 

“Sleep tight, Oli,” Schneider says as he gets into the bed next to Oliver. Oliver grins happily, leaning in to place a peck on Schneider’s cheek before turning around and happily snuggling into the blankets while Schneider reaches for the light to turn it off, left in amusement at how affectionate Oliver sometimes can be while drunk.


End file.
